


And Marry Me?

by agynesschap



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 10:20:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1979151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agynesschap/pseuds/agynesschap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Because it would make me happier than anything, too happy really, if you agreed to what I wish,"<br/>"And stay with you?"<br/>"And stay with me,"<br/>"And marry you?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"And marry me,"</p>
<p>- The Young Victoria</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This scene was spinning in my head for quite a long time, and it was for another long time that I have put them in type.
> 
> And the possibility that those giant statues in the throne room might look different? Yeah, that too.

“They all look the same to me.”

“Look closely, burglar, and you will see the difference between each statue.”

Thorin took the hobbit to the king's hall. They were discussing the large statues of dwarfs that line upon both sides of the hall. To the hobbit, they all seem demeaning, looking down on him spitefully. What the hobbit did not know is that even to the King under the Mountain, they also seem to look at him with judgmental eyes. Thorin gulped as he passed his father's monument.

“I still don't see any difference, your majesty,” Bilbo said, looking at the gigantic statues in consternation.

“And I have told you again, you only need to look closely,” Thorin grinned as the hobbit's frown only got deeper. He put his hand on his back and ushered him to look back at the hall. “Let's start with the first four dwarfs.”

Bilbo hummed and bit his lower lip. Thorin looked at the action intently that he didn't notice that the hobbit was already talking. Blinking, he exhaled audibly.

“Do I got a reward if I do notice the differences, my king?” Bilbo asked him with a grin.

“It depends if you got the right observations, and I do have a name to be used only when in private especially among those closest to me,” Thorin smiled at him.

“Are you veiling an order, sire?” he replied cheekily.

“Bilbo,” The dawrf king dropped the smile and tried to look intimidating to him. The hobbit merely laughed and crossed his arms.

“Fine, Thorin.”

The hobbit walked down the aisle, eyeing the 2 pair of dwarfs on each of his side.

“Helmets, axes, the same stance, the same pose, oh, the same beards,” Both of them chuckled at the last remark. “Impossible, they all look the same!”

Thorin sighed. “I'll give you a hint, and only one; the position of the hands.”

Bilbo looked back at him. “I am a bit displeased, Thorin. Really, just one hint? I'm not a dwarf.”

“And you can see the difference between a common weed and a highly poisonous plant.” The dwarf king was getting a bit irritated. _Perhaps this was a bad idea._

The hobbit must have sensed the dwarf's irritation so he didn't reply. He went back looking to the statues instead. After a few seconds, he blurted out, “I still don't see why I need to spot the differences here.”

“The position of the hands,” Thorin told him a bit wearily.

“The position of hands- oh.”

At that, the hobbit squinted his eyes. Thorin will have to ask for additional lamps to be lit inside the Mountain.

“One of them actually holds the ax with his right hand over his left, and each ax actually has a design of its own. Patterns!”

Thorin broke to a smile as he listened to him enumerating the differences he finally saw.

“Now that you look at it, they actually have different beard lengths! This one's long, that's short, and even that one has his moustache braided like Fili's. Interesting.”

The king chuckled. “Alright Master Baggins, -”

“Look! The 3rd statue from here is not actually wearing a helmet, it's something eles.”

At that, the hobbit began to run towards the said statue. Thorin's heart skipped a beat as he watched the hobbit's feet come a little too close to the edge of the long walk.

“Bilbo-”

“He's actually wearing a crown. Two ravens, I've seen that somewhere,” Bilbo shouted from where he was.

“That's because you've seen it here.” He called out.

“Where is here?” The hobbit turned back. His eyes brightened upon seeing the same crown resting on Thorin's head.

“Well, it's not my fault if you had it made from black stone-”

“Onyx.”

“Whatever. It certainly blends with your hair. I can't see it clearly with the dim light.”

Thorin could only smile.

_I am definitely going to add more lamps inside this mountain._

“That's my great grandfather,” the dwarf pointed to the statue Bilbo was currently in front of.

Bilbo looked up again to the statue wearing the coronet, crown, whatever it is. He spotted the same crown on the following and previous statues. He realized he was wrong; the statues wore no helmets but rather the crown.

Then, realization dawned over the hobbit. “These were Kings under the Mountain?”

Thorin nodded, a bit annoyed that the hobbit had guessed so easily.

_Well, not easily because he didn't see any difference from the start._

Bilbo gazed at the statues. When the hobbit started to walk again, Thorin ran until he was able to catch up with him.

“Slow down, Master Baggins.”  
“Getting old, are we?” The smirk on the hobbit's face made his heart flutter for a bit.

“I'd really appreciate it if you slow down,” ignoring the jibe, he gently put his hand on his shoulder. “As you can see, this walk is not meant for running.”

Apparently, the hobbit did not notice it before, and having noticed it now blanched at the drop on both sides.

“Oh,” Bilbo stiffened and just stared at the deep chasm, not moving. Sensing that it brought up unpleasant memories, Thorin cursed himself inwardly for forgetting this detail.

Two years since that incident, the hobbit had developed an intense fear of heights. The dwarf king heard this news from the wizard, who actually warned him of Bilbo's visit to the dwarven stronghold.

 

“ _There might be a chance of Bilbo actually fearing Erebor more than before.”_

“ _And why is that?”_

“ _Unsavory events often lead people to instability.”_

“ _What do you mean, wizard?”_

“ _I suggest you refrain from taking him anywhere high, or halls that reveal the lower levels.”_

“ _Master Baggins knows that the mountain is designed in such a way, why would he visit then?”_

“ _Because,” Tharkun fixed him with an unreadable look, “Some people think they are stronger than they are. And that also says the same for you.”_

 

_The Valar are punishing me._

“Bilbo,” he called out the hobbit's name, but he was still looking at the chasm.

“Bilbo,” he gently put his hand on his shoulder. Bilbo flinched, and looked at Thorin with wet eyes.

The king didn't know what to do. Anything he might do might jeopardize the fragile peace that kept those dark memories away. His mind was whirling with different set of actions until he decided to take a risk.

The dwarf king then gently pulled the hobbit to an embrace. “Come on, let's get you some tea.”

“Yes, please,” Bilbo's voice croaked.

Thorin sighed. Still not breaking the embrace, he kept the hobbit's head (who was clinging hardly to his waist) leaning against his chest while leading them both back to the safety of the entrance corridor.

_Definitely not a good idea._

 

Hiding in the right side aisle behind the giant statues, the Company watched as their king led their hobbit away to the great front doors.

“Hmm, must have been something traumatic,” Oin commented upon seeing the look on the hobbit's face.

“Remind me uncle, why is Erebor designed differently from the rest of the dwarven settlements? And to think they boast of Erebor's beauty, not its practicality,” Bofur looked at Bifur who was persistently shaking his head.

Balin sighed, giving away a pouch of gold coins to Nori. “How do you ever win in bets like these?”

Nori just smiled as he received the pouch. “Sometimes, we think we are strong and tend to forget that others aren't as strong as us.”

“Master Baggins is as strong as us,” Dwalin grumbled, relunctantly handing Nori his pouch of coins. “Just in a different way.”

“At least the princes aren't here to witness the king's, err, what is a softer word for failure?” Dori asked his youngest brother.

“It is a failure,” Ori replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “He overlooked this one, little, important detail.”

The Company went on with their grumblings while walking out of the hall.

“To think that he was so prepared!” Gloin complained.

“Yes. Our king may be prepared, but how about Bilbo?” Bombur said before closing the doors to the hall.

Ori sighed. “They have been keeping correspondence over these 2 years, and if we are to believe Kili,” Ori lowered his voice a little, “Some of the letters are... intimate in substance.”

The Company snickered.

“Oh, aye. Though the looks they have been sending one another during last night's supper are something akin to hunger,” Nori said.

That sent them off laughing that they were sure dwarfs would look at them suspiciously, respectable as they are.

“Must be the wine,” Dwalin offered after laughing.

He was met with a series of 'No', 'Are you blind?', 'Nonsense'.

“Well,” Balin wiped away the small tears blooming in his eyes. “If wine was the case, I'd dare say they've been drinking each other.”

If Thorin heard laughter echo through the halls, he was sure that whoever they were they must have been mocking him.

 


	2. Chapter 2

It's been a week since that event, and Thorin still hadn't given up. Though he never did get his intention for the hobbit clear, he was hoping that today would be it. Well, after the feast; the King under the Mountain still wanted to keep his intentions private, and private includes the Company, his cousin Dain and possibly his sister.

His loyal friends not only laughed at him, but also chastised him (Ori being the most verbal of them all). His ears still rang because of it.

He was sitting at the high table of the feast placed on a dais, looking for a certain someone in the crowd of the Great Hall. While his nephews were mingling with the rest of the party, he was left to brood because Bilbo still hasn't appeared in the feast.

A movement from his left made him sit straighter. Upon seeing who it was he frowned.

“My beard, if it isn't the great brooder,” Dain greeted him.

“It is always a pleasure to see you, Dain,” Thorin said boringly.

His cousin laughed at him, “Come now. It is not sightly to see our king seemingly bored by such festivity. Why don't you get your arse off that chair and dance? The musicians are tuning up now.”

“You know that I don't dance,” Thorin replied nervously. He knows where this would lead to.

“I know that you don't want to dance. So I brought these,” Dain slammed 3 tankards in front of him. How he was able to carry that all along, he did not know.

He sighed, “And you know that I don't drink.”

Dain raised an eyebrow, “The hell you are.”

 

A few more drinks and he was dancing. The whole crowd was up on their feet dancing, while others were just on the side hiding their smiles behind tankards and cups of liquor.

He was not that drunk to not recognize who he was dancing with though. A few giggling ladies danced with him first, most of them too drunk to even notice that Thorin was already stepping on their feet. Bofur danced with him, to the amusement of the crowd. He was better than the ladies he previously danced with, but he was not going to admit it. Surprisingly, his sister also danced with him. Dis was laughing at him, pulling his beard whenever his boots got near her feet.

It went on and on, the hall was spinning continuously. He didn't know if he was smiling or not. He wasn't even sure if he saw Dwalin kissing some boy, or if Fili was dancing, or if Kili was recreating the dinner scene at Bilbo's house, or if Bilbo was dancing with Dain-

Thorin snapped out of his dancing haze. Tearing his eyes away from Dis, he craned his neck back to see whether he was right or too drunk. He couldn't see Bilbo anymore, but he could definitely hear his laughter. Not anymore dancing, he scanned the crowd.

“Thorin, you're not dancing,” Dis hissed.

“Thank you for stating the obvious,” he replied.

Dis harrumphed but still continued to dance while Thorin left her. He returned to the dais where the high table was and scanned the crowd. He could see the mop of unruly hair stand out among the crowd of braided hair, twirling and moving in sync. Thorin could see that Bilbo was indeed dancing with Dain. He could see the way Bilbo smiled at him, and Thorin knew that look in Dain's eyes.

Growling, he snatched a tankard from the table and drank the contents of it.  
Everytime he heard Bilbo laugh, he drank some more, though he didn't know where he got them. He threw the tankards he was holding, punched the walls, punched a bald dwarf who was kissing someone, and the bald dwarf punched him back. He fell but he stood up on his own, and walked away laughing. He was just walking and walking and walking, not even sure if something slapped him.

The room became too big, the music became too loud, the laughter and chatter too irritating, the dancing too annoying-

Before he knew it, the music stopped, the room was too quiet and it was too dark. And he was lying on his bed with a throbbing headache.

The lamps were dimly lit but he knows it's already past noon. Balin was going to have his hide.

The door opening made him sit-up, though he regretted it as the room began spinning. Laughter made him know who was in his room.

“You know, that was the first time that the King ever got drunk. I'm talking about all kings under the Mountain,” Dis said while adjusting the bightness of the lamps. “Not that it's a bad thing, but people are talking about it.”

“Tell me more,” Thorin groaned. Dis gave him a cup of what he thought was water, which he was grateful for. He took a sip, only to spit out the liquid. “What is this?”

“It's supposed to help drunkards like you,” Dis smirked. “That's what the hobbit said.”

Thorin stared at the cup. “Bilbo.”

“Yes. You know, I'm surprised he still gave you some remedy after what happened last night,” Dis said warily.

That made him look at her alarmingly, “Last night?”

Dis looked at him, “I should have known that you might have not remembered that. You even punched Dwalin, but you just laughed it off like the drunkard you are.”

Bits and pieces of memories started to make sense to him. He touched his nose gingerly.

“It stopped bleeding hours ago, don't worry,” Dis said, “What you should be worried about is Master Baggins. And about your work, don't worry about it too. Fili has taken over.”

She then proceeded to tell him about the day's events, but he wasn't listening. He was, and really was concerned about what happened last night between him and Bilbo. He wished it was something else, but it wasn't. He only remembered Bilbo dancing, Bilbo looking at him in concern-

He was aware that Dis had stopped talking when someone knocked on the door. Glancing at her, she was looking at him with concerned eyes.

“What happened last night?” Thorin asked.

Dis sighed and rubbed her forehead, “You called him a whore.”

It took him a while to digest what Dis had told him. There was a knock again on the door, this time the door opened.

“Your majesty,” the servant bowed to the two of them, “Your highness? The princes are to see you in court.”

Dis nodded, “I will be out in a while.”

After the servant left them, Dis went to his brother's bed and kissed Thorin's forehead, “I won't tell you to stop, but please? Watch your tongue, brother.”

Thorin watched as his sister left and closed the doors. He threw the cup at the door, the contents spilling on his bed and on the floor. His headache never left him all day long.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for those of you following this story if it took me some time to upload. School, you know :D.  
> Thank you for reading :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it, Bilbo is leaving the Mountain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for those of you who are following my story if it took me eons to upload another chapter. Don't worry, it's here :D.

The King under the Mountain has never been more desperate in his life than the time he broke his mother's favorite cup. It was made out of ivory, carved exquisitely with wildlife scenes. Her name was etched subtly that one had to squint hard enough to see it. He had been searching the whole market for a replacement, but to no avail. When he returned to the palace, it was only to see his mother quietly sweeping away the fragments of her ivory cup. She made no sound but Thorin knew what her mother was feeling at that moment.

Just like her mother's ivory cup, Bilbo was priceless.

After being reminded by Dis about his spectacular drunken performance, Thorin sought to reconcile with the hobbit.

It wasn't that Bilbo was avoiding him. They still meet in the halls, or the occasional dinner thrown by Bombur, or the court meetings where Bilbo would help Ori take minutes, or the welcoming of different ambassadors from anywhere he did not care. No, Bilbo wasn't avoiding him; he was ignoring him.

He tried his best to strike up a conversation with him, but the hobbit was either too quick to leave the premises or too silent to even bother talking to. It was driving him insane.

He lamented everything to Dwalin.

“I am pathetic,” he said.

“Yes, you are,” Dwalin replied, “Might I add that you're also a big arse?”

“I am too afraid to speak with him, how would I even start? 'Master Baggins, please forgive me for having called you a whore because I was irrationally jealous of you dancing with my lecherous cousin'?” Thorin grumbled. “'Not to mention, will you marry me'?”

“Oh, so you're apologizing only to him?” Dwalin leered at him.

“Shut up. You deserved it, imagine if that was Dori who punched you.”

Dwalin was silent, and Thorin looked at him. His friend was actually contemplating what he said.

“It would have been worth it,” Dwalin said, “Because it came from his brother. But because it came from you, no.”

Thorin then became silent. He was lost. He didn't know how to start. It would have been easier with just the proposal, but now he also had to deal with damage he had done. He was starting from scratch, again.

“How will I do this?” He murmured to himself.

Dwalin heard him, however. Sighing, the bald warrior approached his friend and knocked their foreheads.

“Why not tell him how you feel?”

They were interrupted when someone barged into Thorin's parlour unannounced. There were only two people who did such.

"I see that you still haven't mastered proper manners," Thorin said.

"We're dwarves, cousin. Manners do not apply to us except in battle, if it really is manners. Dwalin," Dain nodded to the bald dwarf

"You know I have half a mind to kill you right now," Thorin said through gritted teeth.

"You always do, you always do," Dain poured himself a goblet of wine from Thorin's desk.

"Thanks to you, I have to start from scratch again trying to woo my beloved," Thorin snatched the half drunk goblet from his cousin.

"Who are you, and what did you do to my cousin, the constipated goat of Erebor?" Dain smirked.

"Speaking of goats, your goats are to be roasted for the next dinner."

"You won't do that," Dain's smirk dropped. "Besides, their meat is harder than leather, those goats."

Sighing, Thorin dropped on his chair and massaged his head. "Why are you here."

"I've come to tell you that your hobbit has been subtly asking me why you're ignoring him," Dain poured himself another goblet.

Thorin looked at his cousin. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily.  _Fools, the both of us_.

Dwalin snorted, "Don't you two make a pretty pair."

"Just shag him already," Dain sat down on one of the armchairs. "Shag him wherever he might be right now."

Thorin groaned, "Wherever he might be is as far away from me as possible."

"Then go after him. Ruin his sheets, ruin his rump and-"

"Alright Dain, I don't want images of ruined rumps," Dwalin interrupted.

"Speak for yourself. You are just about ready to ruin that scribe's rump if my eyes did not deceive me _that night_ ," Dain replied.

Dwalin's face reddened, "I do not."

"Whatever. So, I heard from little thrushes that you had quite the show that night and are now trying to apologize to the hobbit," Dain ignored Dwalin's red face.

"I didn't know you had  _l_ _ittle thrushes_ at your command," Thorin answered.

"And from what I know of apologizing to people whom I love dearly," Dain continued, "Is that they are placated with gifts. And I know just the right gift."

Thorin regarded his cousin for a while. "Are you sure these people whom you love dearly aren't bed warmers?"

"Same, same," Dain replied coolly. "Now, will you hear me out?"

 

Hours later, he called the Company (except Bilbo) to his parlour, including his sister and cousin (which he was loathe to do so) and told them of his spectacular plan, which was Dain's plan with a few alterations (Dain originally intended for the Greenwood elves to build a forest inside the mountain to which Thorin staunchly objected).

“You will what,” Ori said.

“I will make him a garden,” Thorin said. “Actually, just reusing that old flowerbed the Queen used to have.”

“The one overlooking the River Running?” Kili asked.

“Oh, he will like it,” Fili smiled and rubbed his hands enthusiastically.

"I want your opinion on this matter, that's why I called you tonight," Thorin told them.

"Why give him the old flowerbed?" Dori questioned.

"I want him to feel more welcome here," Thorin replied. "Giving him something that might remind of home while away from home seemed to be wise."

"If he stays, just let me remind you in case you forget; you still haven't proposed to Bilbo," Balin said.

Balin's statement was met with a chorus of 'Aye's, Nori yelling "Just shag him already", while Dwalin slowly inched his way towards where Ori is seated.

"Aye, I intend to propose to him when I present the garden," Thorin said. "That is why I asked Bofur, Bifur and Bombur to check on it."

Bifur was grumbling loudly, arms flailing in what was surely his way of describing everything he is saying.

“What did he say?” Dain asked to the group.

“He says it's unstable,” Bofur replied. “And yes, it is unstable. All of the framework has to be replaced. Not to mention the soil needs to be replaced too, thanks to our dearly beloved drake.”

There were many who seemed disappointed upon hearing that part. Dis was nursing a goblet of wine, offering one to Dori who gladly accepted it while keeping eye on Dwalin, who was not beside Ori when the meeting started.

“If you were to redo the whole area, how long will it take?” Dis asked.

“Well milady, I'd say a month, but I think our King can't wait any much longer,” Bombur finished while looking at Thorin who was facing the hearth, back turned to the Company.

_A month?_ Thorin sighed. It has been 4 months since the hobbit's arrival. He doesn't know when Bilbo will be leaving, and with his performance during _that night_ , he was sure their burglar was only eager to leave.

He was so lost in his brooding that he jumped when someone knocked on the door. Everybody became silent and were frowning.

“Who could it be?” Oin asked.

“Must be special since my brother could hear it,” Gloin said, making everyone laugh.

Dwalin approached the door and opened it, revealing a very nervous looking hobbit on the other side.

“Ah, master Baggins, whatever on earth are you doing here late at night?” Balin greeted.

“I could ask the same thing with you lot,” Bilbo smiled nervously.

The Company chuckled, though Thorin was looking at the hobbit apprehensively. _This is it, Bilbo is leaving the Mountain._

“If I may borrow the King from this meeting of yours? Which you graciously didn't tell me about,” Bilbo looked at everyone.

“Oh yes, hmm, well about that,” Bofur started.

“Take this brooding King of ours, he's done nothing but stare at the hearth after all,” Nori pushed Thorin out, while the King was loudly protesting.

The rest of the Company, sensing something, have all gathered near the door eager to see what would happen.

Bilbo, who was obviously nervous given his familiar fidgeting, looked at the Company now swarmed by the door and levelled them with an annoyed look.

“I'd like to speak with Thorin _in private_ ,” Bilbo emphasised the last word.

“Alright, out of the way, you lot ought to know when things aren't supposed to be entertainment,” Dis grumbled while ushering them back in the room.

Bilbo sighed, sending Dis a grateful look. “Oh, Thorin? If we could speak in my rooms?”

"Oh, your rooms, Bilbo? Not quite subtle aren't we tonight?" Kili grinned only for him to retreat inside the room from the glares of his uncle and Bilbo.

"Uh, right. I mean, not my rooms, the king's hall perhaps?" Bilbo flustered.

"Anywhere is good, as long as my brother won't get lost," Dis grinned in a manner which is very like her youngest son's.

Bilbo nodded and hastily walked down the corridor. Dis peeked at the hobbit before looking at his brother seriously.

“This is your chance. Strike for gold,” she whispered.

"Thorin, are you coming?" Bilbo called.

"In a minute, master hobbit," Dis huffed, knocking her forehead with his brother's before closing the doors.

Thorin gulped.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Will continue soon. Thanks for reading!


End file.
